Princess Twilight wipes her brow using a towel she'd brought from home, a sigh escaping her lips at the task before her. She’d already written hundreds of pages on the anatomy of the greenskins and the various functions of their bodies. She turns to look back at the ork on her table, having been thoroughly disassembled before being laid out neatly in pieces. the head had been rather disagreeable, but that's nothing a bolt of magic can't fix. She grabs a rag with her magic, wiping some viscera from her forehead.
Twilight sighs, wishing that starlight were there to aid in this endeavor, but she is busy acting as Twilight's eyes and ears off in the crystal kingdoms with several squads of the space marines. The sounds of one of the space marines approaching brings her back to reality. She composes herself before walking to the door, wondering what one of the giants would be doing in the depths of the palace. After a few moments the door creaks open to be filled with a field of white armor. Twilight looks up to meet the eyes of the apothecary.
The space marine looks down. Twilight still isn’t used to the way human eyes look, compared with the large, expressive eyes of ponies. The pale blue eyes flick from twilight to the disassembled ork.
“Princess, I see you have engaged in some xenology. Dissection or vivisection?” His speech is stilted, as if he’d not spoken this language in many a year. The scientific terms roll off easier, since they’re probably used in his work. The terminator armored sanguinary priest saunters farther into the room, looking over the notes. He lets some air out of his mouth.
“For a xeno without hands, you have great handwriting.” He leans on the slab, the equipment of his narthecium clinking on the stone as he reviews the dissection. Twilight clears her throat.
“Why are you here, mister…” She trails off, not knowing the name of this space marine.
“Brother Fabian, and I heard there is a dissection chamber here. I've been curious about the state of medical science here.” he shifts his weight, the chalice at his hips lightly banging his side.
“w-well, we don’t really use tools all the time to heal, if that's what you want to review. And this is this the most advanced medical lab in all of Equestria. There are usually more ponies, but I prefer to work alone. For the most part we use magic, and only resort to tools if a properly trained unicorn isn’t available. Also, it was a vivisection.” Twilight ignites her horn and an ethereal violet scalpel appears in the air as a demonstration.
The space marines nods, his curiosity still piqued. He places a finger on the parchment.
“So, Princess, wouldn’t your talents be better suited to the field rather than the lab?” The sanguinary priest absentmindedly revs the small chainblade on his narthecium. Twilight jumps at the sound, used to the quiet of her work. She straightens herself before nervously balancing herself on the nearby table.
“Well, I would but ever since Luna underestimated the greenskins and got herself injured, celestia’s banned us princesses from fighting. It’s actually alright with me, I’m much more suited to books and management than leading armies.” The white-clad space marine looks down at her. His eyes flash for an instant with contempt. He’s been on a hundred fronts, and seen a hundred thousand horrors. The idea of the most powerful beings in the land not fighting for their realm is simply abhorrent to him. He recalls the actual reason he was sent down here.
“Princess, I almost forgot that I’m supposed to bring you some news. Phoros wanted to extend an invitation to dinner alongside the other princesses. Also, I received the report on my way here that Princess Luna's awakened from her coma.” With that the space marine exits in spite of twilights objections and inquiries to the princess’s exact condition. The sanguinary priest takes the stairs up to the main level of the castle. In the past few days, the luxurious castle had been turned into a fortified position. In the main hall, several groups of kriegers are busy moving crates of munitions. A few of them glance over with mechanical movements at the sound of the space marine’s approach.
A commissar walks up to the space marine, his respirator hanging on a sling. He holds his hat under one arm.
“M’lord, The equestrian emissary wishes to speak with you.”
“Me Specifically, or just a space marine?” The Equestrians had a tendency to just request a space marine, presumably under the assumption that they’re not a separate fighting force but a sort of militant officer caste.
“She just asked for the first space marine officer who could be found.”
The chief apothecary sighs, he may be obedient to the chapter master, but his choice to ally with the xenos is well within question.
“Where is she?”
“That way, m’lord” He points down a hallway towards the dining hall. The space marine sighs and decides to make his way over. He’d been told to listen to diplomatic affairs of the equines by Phoros, but of all the officers they’d have to find! Even the head techmarine would be a better diplomat.
Fabian enters the long room, dominated by several enormous wall tapestries and a long table. At the head of the table, and flanked by two armored guards sits Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. The space marine stands opposite her, at a distance of a dozen meters or so.
“you wanted to speak with a space marine?”
The pink pony clears her throat “Yes, if you are so disposed.” she gestures to a seat near her, obviously made quickly from the slightly uneven lines of the wood. It looks to be big and sturdy enough for a terminator armored space marine.
“my duties for the day are concluded, but I must warn you in advance that I am not in any position to make promises on behalf of my chapter or the imperium of man.”
“I’m aware, Fabian. You’re actually the officer I wanted to see.” The equine adjusts some papers on the desk. Fabian cocks one eyebrow, adjusting his position a bit.
“Really, why would that be?” He crosses his arms, watching the princess with his pale blue eyes.
“Well, I wanted to personally thank you and your Sanguinary priests for the help they’ve rendered to our forces in the short time you have all been. Especially for your care for my aunt.”
“Well, I didn’t personally care for her. That was brother Fernando, I was busy attending to our own.” He ends the sentence with a mild lick of contempt. He’d been in favor of glassing both the Orks and the whole world, but that damn witch, Faust, has more sway with the chapter master.
“Well, send my regards to him, then.” The Equine smiles up at Fabian, her saccharine diplomatic demeanor grating on him. He’d heard that the ponies had little sense of urgency in their actions, and this seems to be no exception.
“If that is all, ma’am I will take my leave” The astartes resists his natural urge to crush this xeno under his adamantium boot as he begins to exit.
“Yes, Sir, you may go.” She smiles when he turns his back, she detests these bipeds. Their sheer arrogance astounds her. Sure, the “Kriegers” are useful in their sheer obedience to their commanders, but the giants are unbearable in their self-importance. Even as one whose job is spreading love, these guys grate on her. Cadence sighs, pushing herself out of the chair. She adjusts her Ceremonial armor. She isn’t used to the plate in the same way that Luna and Celestia are. To a certain extent, she envies Twilight. While twilight may have one of the more rigorous schedules in managing the Equestrian science effort, she doesn’t need any ceremonial garb for dealing with her work.
A servant enters the room, bowing his head in front of Cadence. “Your highness, Princess Luna wishes to speak with you”
“Thank you, Sweet Rain.” She nods, before making her way out of the room and up into the residence halls. Luna’s room is somewhat isolated, with a pair of menacing guards standing on either side of the black doors. One opens the door with a quick pull of magic. The darkened room has only two figures within, a bedbound Princess Luna and a white-clad space marine. Cadence realizes she’s walked in on the tail end of some form of discussion of military technology.
“-and that is why we find the idea of indirect bombardment to be far-fetched. How would artillerists be able to calculate the place to strike within any reasonable time.”
The space marine has been scribbling out something on a piece of parchment. “Well, we have these equations, and cogiters. It allows for one to hit a target twenty, thirty kilometers away within a reasonable margin.” He shows the paper to Luna, who raises an eyebrow at the contents of the page. Cadence clears her throat, the sanguinary priest looks up. His brown eyes glint a little in the dark room, as opposed to the almost luminescent teal of Luna’s eyes.
Cadence couldn’t see much of Luna, just her neck and head are actually above the covers. A jug of water sits next to an ornate glass at her bedside, in addition to a half-eaten bowl of oatmeal. In one corner, her armor, now bearing a fearsome scorch mark across the front, stands on a rack. The ancient and intricate curtains lay pulled, most of the light coming from a number of candles spread about, and the glow of the Space marine’s narthecium’s screen.
“brother Fernando I presume?” Cadence unwittingly tinges her voice with sarcasm. A fact she only realises after the sound had cleared her mouth.
“Your presumption is quite correct, princess.” The space marine bows his head slightly. “Your aunt and I were discussing differences in gunnery present between Equestria and the imperium of Man. While my knowledge is fair, I’d recommend asking of a techmarine or engineseer if you want the exacts.” He picks up his helmet “I’ll be seeing myself off, if it is alright by you, Luna.” He looks to Luna, who nods. Cadence interrupts before he departs.
“Sir, I thank you for your service to Equestria, and your chapters service to our world.
“We do it gladly, ma’am” The astartes turns back to Luna. “I must really go now, I have other patients to check.”
“If thou must go, we’re in no position to stop you from attending to thine duties.” The Space marine nods and exits, Luna waits for him to be out of earshot before continuing. “Cadence, we are glad to see that even in these days of strife, you find the time to keep your mane perfectly in order.” Luna cracks a small smile, which Cadence reciprocates.
“Well, I certainly can’t look disheveled like I’d just had an intimate romp when I meet with foreign diplomats.” Cadence chuckles a little at her own jokes.
“That is certainly true...don’t you think these ‘Space Marines’ are just wonderful? They’re what we could only dream of the Lunar guard being. Imagine, we would have razed the Griffon kingdoms to the ground five times over if we had these kind of warriors under our command. Alas, from what we’ve been told, it takes technology even we cannot comprehend to forge them. Have you seen them in action, Cadence, it is truly a spectacle to behold!” Luna raises a hoof for emphasis.
“All I’ve seen of them is their striding around the castle, acting as if they’re the greatest thing ever.” Cadence derisively squints at the door to add some substance to her statement. “They may be giants, bedecked in more gold than Celestia, but they are small-minded. They even grate on me. I thought Blueblood was bad, but at least I could tell him to go away, with these guys? I can’t even think about it without causing a diplomatic incident that could annihilate our world.” The pink alicorn snorts, before noticing a teal stare right into her soul from the bedridden monarch.
“Cadence, without these humans, Equestria would be dead. I’m not exaggerating when I say that.” She allows a small slice of the royal canterlot voice tinge her tone. “At the very least we must address them with the utmost of gratitude for fighting for us.” Luna looks down at Cadence over her snout. In that moment, Cadence feels remarkably small. It reminds her of the first time she’d seen Celestia actually flex her magical muscles in the least, not the least form the electric atmosphere the irritated Princess seemed to confer to the room. Luna softens after a moment.
“We apologize, but we have been under great stress, not having control is quite grating upon our nerves.” Cadence nods in reply.
“What did you want me here for, Aunt?” Cadence decides to get down to the business at hand. “Or did you just want conversation?”
“We have an assignment for you” Luna levitates a leather-bound book from under her bed. “Ever since the greenskins made their landing, Discord has been missing. We want you and your husband to find him.”
“Why me? I’m not the most qualified pony for this sort of job? Why not Twilight, or your Sister? Who knows that he’s missing, besides us?”
“Twilight is busy with trying to find a solution to the greenskin threat and Our sister...she...she is unaware of the current situation, she, like most of the public believes he is conducting guerilla warfare in the everfree valley until he gets bored and starts annihilating orks at his leisure. In truth he vanished after Fluttershy went missing in action while he was out. If the worst has come to pass, Discord having changed sides, I want you to return and inform Us at once. To assist you, we grant this. It’s been a long time since it’s been issued, but We believe it to still bear its old power.” Luna opens the book to reveal a secret compartment, within, is a badge of office. Cadence’s eyes widen. She’d heard of Lunar rangers, entitled to nigh-unlimited powers in order to carry out their missions. She’d thought they’d been wiped out during the Longest Night, and their marks of office destroyed. This proves that at least one badge survived the Lunar purge.
“L-Luna, are you sure?”
“Yes, now take your badge and find that ancient horror before he decides to stop pulling punches.” Cadence takes the book in her magic, closing it to conceal the badge before she exits. Luna lays back in bed, hoping she’d made the right call.
A thousand miles away, and under a smoke-stained sky, Manehattan has become an orkish bacchanal. Smoke roils from a thousand workshops making guns for the constant stream of orks emerging from their spores unarmed. In the grandest of these forges, built into the very rok that started all of this, Graknar has his personal workshop. Within, steel, stone and labor seized from the city accumulates into battlefortresses, dreds and most impressively, upgrades for his personal gargant. The glow of this forge can be seen for miles. Just outside of the city, several quadrupedal figures observe the proceedings. One of whom, wearing a sling around a wing and an old helmet she’d found during her escape from the city, gives a signal with her free wing, and the ponies return to the foliage from their observation point.